Something Diabolical
by Sharppa
Summary: "Safety and peace, Malik", I hear a familiar voice say as they step into the bureau. Oh, how I missed that voice and how I hate it. / Malik's thoughts about the incident. / MalikxAltaïr


Cold. So cold that I can feel my muscles freeze and bones crushing inside me. My joints are creaking and screeching as I move. My heart is pounding and I feel like suffocating. I'm sure my lungs are full of broken glass.

Sweat. How can I be sweating if I feel this cold? I can feel droplets of sweat forming on my forehead and dribbling down the sides of my face. My whole body is moist because of the sweat.

Moans. I am not sure if the voices are mine or not. Are those voices of pleasure or pain? I'm positive now that the voices can't be mine, because I'm quite sure I've been holding my breath. No, that's wrong. I am not holding my breath, something is blocking it.

Hands. There are hands on my throath, pushing, suffocating. Two strong hands are strangling me, but they don't belong to me. Then who is it on top of me?

Darkness. There's darkness everywhere. I look up. I see a cocky smile on lips that I want to kiss.

* * *

"Altaïr", I hear myself say as my eyes snap open. My sheets are as sweaty as my body. I bring my right hand to my face to rub my eyes. My chest is pounding like my heart wants to escape. I stare at the ceiling letting my thoughts run away. I don't want to think. I don't want to feel.

I get up and light a candle that I keep on the table next to my bed. For a moment I watch as the flame dances like it's happy to be alive. I wish it would be so easy to be happy and I could just settle with what I have. For some reason I can't do that. For one reason. And a few moments ago I said my reason's name.

I hate dreams. I never know if they are happy or sad. I never know do I enjoy them or are they just killing me. Probably all of those are true. I wish I could forget. Sometimes I even wish that I had died back then. When I think about it my right hand automatically touches my left one. Or whatever there's left of it. I want to forgive myself and I want to forgive him. But there's something stopping me. I cannot define what I feel towards him and that's what drives me insane at nights.

I grab the candle and walk into the bureau. The empty room looks almost lonely. Darkness embraces the sad athmosphere. Only lights is the candle's warming fire and the sad lights of the distant stars that try to crawl inside but only manage to slightly touch the threshold with faint light. I blow out the flame and walk outside so the blue and silver light of the sky can embrace me. For a moment I feel like those twinkling eyes of sky understand me. But then I realize I'm just dreaming again. I lay down on the hard ground and fall asleep.

* * *

"Safety and peace, Malik", I hear a familiar voice say as they step into the bureau. Oh, how I missed that voice and how I hate it. I nod and reply in a cold tone. He doesn't deserve anything more. I glance at him and for a moment I think I see sorrow in his eyes but his face becames stoned again and I must have been mistaken.

He's got a feather. Blood. More blood spilled, but that's what we must do. Nothing is true, everything is permitted. It's the master's orders and he knows what he's doing and I just have to shake my head in disappointment when Altaïr starts to question our master. He must be just bitter because of becoming a novice. I just don't understand why master gave him another chance, but somehow I am relieved too.

I decide I have heard enough of his nonesense and send him away. I clench my teeth so I won't say anything inappropriate and keep drawing an another map of Jerusalem.

Sometimes it's hard to see things, but I understand now. I have been foolish. We have all been fooled by our master. No, he is not worth that title. Al Mualim. I cannot believe I didn't listen to Altaïr the first time. I have made the same mistakes Altaïr did, but he prooved to be better. I feel like I am worse than him. I deserved those losses. I don't deserve my arm nor my brother. But my brother.. He deserved to live. A spark of hatred fills my soul but I suffocate it before it starts a fire. I have been fool and I have to prove I am not worse than Altaïr.

I look at him. He's bloody and injured but when he looks at me he smiles. And I smile back. This will be _MY new beginning_. My second chance.

* * *

_AN: Soo.. Should I write another chapter or not? I'd like to leave the story like this but in the other hand.. I'd like to write more about Malik and Altaïr and what happened after that :D_


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